


Counting Chickens

by AvengingAngel



Series: Eggshells [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Friendship, Frottage, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Post-Serum, Super Soldier Serum, Wartime, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:41:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3870712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvengingAngel/pseuds/AvengingAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So this is a whole load of stories centred in and around the universe of Hydra's Golden Egg. Basically, it's scenes that won't fit into the main story, but I still want to write.</p>
<p>Each chapter will be a different story, each with varying lengths.</p>
<p>I have a list of scenes coming up, but if there's something you really want to see, please let me know and I will add it to the list and get to it if I can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Counting Chickens

It was freezing, so much so that they could see their breaths before them, crystalizing in the air.

The Howling Commando’s had made camp in the middle of a snow-filled forest in Austria, about fifty miles from the Hydra base they were supposed to attack the next morning. The trees were thick around them, and there was no sign of any enemies anywhere close, so they had felt safe enough to build a fire and try to thaw out a little, enough to pull their triggers.

It was late at night when they became aware of a change in the air, small whimpers of pain and frustration badly muffled. One by one, the Commando’s awoke, looking around to find where it was coming from.

Bucky didn’t need to look; he already knew. He’d heard it enough, it was engraved upon his soul.

Steve.

The sound of Steve crying reminded him of a thousand tiny moments, moments of Steve desperately trying to hold in his sobs. Fights he’d gotten into. The ones he’d had no chance of winning and had to be ended by Bucky; illnesses that had near killed him, Bucky sending for the priest rather than the doctor; the inadequacy he’d felt when he wasn’t strong enough to hold down a job, Bucky’s pay having to stretch to the rent and feeding both of them; the nights Bucky had come home from a date to find Steve heartbroken because yet another dame had looked down upon him. The night his mama died.

From practice alone, Bucky put it together that these cries were the product of pain and frustration, with a whole lot of shame thrown in there.

Gabe threw a stone at him and signalled ‘Is he okay?’

Bucky shook his head and Gabe signalled the message to the others. There was a general shifting of bodies as they all moved to be able to see each other. 

It was Jim Morita who was able to get a glimpse of Steve, and then he signalled what he saw.

Steve pulling at his cock.

They all grinned dirtily for a moment. They were all men, they all had needs. Just because Steve was their Captain it didn’t change that he was a man. A very special man, but a man all the same. They all settled back down, ignoring what was going on, dismissing the noises as badly muffled pleasure.

Only Bucky was worried. Before the serum, Steve literally hadn’t been able to masturbate. His lungs couldn’t stand it, and his circulation was so bad he rarely managed to get an erection. The hooker Bucky got him for his sixteenth had had to do most of the work even after Steve had got it up, he was just too frail to take control.

Honestly, sometimes Bucky wondered why Steve even bothered getting out of bed. If it was so hard for Bucky to watch him struggle, it had to be harder for Steve to drag himself around.

But still, Steve was different now. He’d had the mythical serum (Bucky prayed every damn night that it didn’t wear off) and was stronger than anyone. He was strong and fast and tall, could eat properly, had no asthma or heart problems. Steve’s outsides now matched his insides, he finally had a body for that big heart of his.

That didn’t mean everything was perfect. Over the weeks since Steve rescued Bucky and the others, it had been a learning curve. A steep one. 

Steve had to eat, there was just no question of it. His metabolism was four times what a normal mans was, so the Commando’s took care of it by shoving extra rations his way and popping into inns and taverns they passed, getting him what they could.

Steve had more energy than any of them knew what to do with. If they were home in Brooklyn, Bucky was sure Steve would go running, or join a boxing gym or something physical to work it off. But they were in the middle of a war; exercising for fun wasn’t an option when you were hunting Hydra. So the Commando’s shoved the heavy lifting at Steve, giving him the heaviest loads to carry, the deepest trenches to dig, the most physically draining tasks to complete. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to keep Steve from going nuts.

Steve needed to sleep every night, or he’d have to catch up. The last time Steve had tried to go without, he’d passed out and slept for over 90 hours. It was damn impressive, even by Bucky’s reckoning. Terrifying, until they’d realised he was just sleeping, but impressive. They tried to make camp at a semi-reasonable time each night and keep it down once Steve had hit the hay.

And now it seemed there was another side effect no one had warned anyone about. 

It went on, Steve working himself, his cries getting less and less muffled as it dragged on. After almost a half hour of listening to it, the men once again started shifting. All that remained in question was who would be the one to try and help.

None of them were fairies, they all loved dames and wouldn’t want to date a man. But it sounded like Steve was in real pain. He did so much, took so many risks. He’d turned himself into a damn lab rat for his country. The least he deserved was a helping hand, so to speak.

It was Bucky that moved, motioning them to stay put, to stand down. He would handle it.

He slowly freed himself from his sleeping bag and blew on his fingers as he stood, making his way over to the trees where Steve had tried to hide himself.

“Hey, punk.”

“Damn it, Buck!” he hissed, yanking his blanket over himself and glaring. “Can’t a guy get a little privacy?”

“Sure, when that guy’s pained whimpers aren’t waking me up.” He reached out and grasped the blanket. “Let me, Stevie.”

“No!”

“You think you can handle it?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. He waited patiently for Steve to answer him.

“I tried,” the blond admitted in a mortified whisper, giving in to his sobs, tears streaming down his face.

He let Bucky pull the blanket away and look down at his straining erection, which was an eye-watering purple.

“It won’t go down, and I can’t cum,” Steve explained.

“This happen to you before? Because we both know this didn’t happen before the serum,” he said, motioning to it.

“It happens every now and then, I get one I can’t ignore,” he said. “I can usually make it go away, take care of it myself. But this one…”

“Steve, buddy, you’ve been pulling it for over an hour. You’re my friend, my pal. Let me help you.”

“I’m not a fairy!”

“Neither am I. But it’s war, and things happen. Stevie, if I could get you a dame right now, I would, but that ain’t an option. It’s just physical, it don’t have to mean nothin’.”

He knew Steve was agreeing when the blonds head fell back. Bucky didn’t give him time to overthink it, or himself time to question it. He just pulled away the blanket and climbed astride his friend.

Steve gasped as Bucky began to move, his hands flying up to grip his hips. Bucky was rubbing against him and it felt so much better than his hand. He reached up, looping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and Bucky pulled him in, his own arms around Steve’s back. Steve pushed his forehead into Bucky’s shoulder as he reached down and rubbed him, hearing Bucky’s breath stutter.

“You don’t have to,” Bucky whispered his lips brushing Steve’s ear. “I don’t expect it.”

“I know.”

Bucky didn’t protest or try to stop him as he opened his trousers, pulling him out and stroking. Bucky felt himself harden in Steve’s hot hand and bit back a moan, pressing his lips to Steve’s throat. He could feel Steve swallow.

Bucky shuffled a little closer, shoving aside fabric so he could align them, and Steve let out a high whimper as their slick heads rubbed. They fumbled for a bit, and then they found their rhythm, just like always, moving together, making it work. When Steve pulled back, Bucky moved forwards and vice versa. 

It didn’t take long before Steve was spilling between them, his hot fluid almost burning Bucky’s cock. It was so new and different Bucky couldn’t help but cum, losing himself in just how dirty it was. They were in the middle of a forest, their men laying a stone’s throw away, slacks open and cocks softening between them, white gooey spunk splattering them.

Bucky managed to raise his head as Steve’s hard on from hell began to go down. His not-so-little friend was panting, a look of relief on his face as his head leant against the tree behind him. In a moment of pure impulsiveness, Bucky cupped his jaw and drew him in, pressing their mouths together.

It was different, kissing a man. His mouth was soft and hot, just like a woman. But there was the rasp of stubble under Bucky’s hand, and he was strong, so Bucky didn’t need to worry about being gentle. Steve could handle it. 

After a moment of being still and shocked, Steve kissed him back.

“You don’t gotta do that,” Steve said when they parted.

“I know I don’t. But it seems a little cold to do stuff like this without any kissin’. And kissin’ is a pretty good thing. I like kissin’.

Steve smiled at him as they tucked themselves away.

“Look, Buck, I don’t know if this is going to happen to me again. It might. And I don’t want to assume anything, or pressure you…”

“Hey,” Bucky interrupted, taking a swig from Steve’s flask and passing it to him. “I’m here if you need me. Assume. We’ve been friends for a long, long time, and in all that time have I ever left you to suffer if I could do something?”

“No.”

“Then shut up, and wake me next time it won’t go down. From now on, we bunk together. You take care of me on the battlefield. I’ll take care of you like this.”

Steve grinned and they cleaned up before they made their way back to their bedrolls. The others were doing a very nice job of fake snoring, and Steve chuckled as he searched his pack for some chocolate, but he must have eaten it all. He blinked at the bar that sailed over his shoulder to land in his lap. Bucky was grinning at him as he looked around.

“I want you to wash my socks for that bar,” Bucky said.

“I’d rather starve.”

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”


End file.
